The necklace of Brisings
by CrimsonGear
Summary: Loki's slightly more sexual version of the myth. Rated for implied sex.


We were asked to re-write a myth for class today, I figured I'd share my more than a little messed up version of how Freyja got her necklace.

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The Necklace of Brisings

It was just reaching the twilight of dawn when I see her, young Freyja, leaving her halls. Well practised in the art of sneaking around, she didn't disturb any of those overgrown fluff-balls she calls cats, asleep by the hearth. Nor, interestingly, did she turn to her chariot.

She left on foot.

That in itself was curious enough, so, being ever the curious one, I follow her. Probably not the wisest move in hindsight, but, come on - it's _Freyja_. Hot, voluptuous... Easy... A whore for lack of a better term... But the way that she's swinging her hips around now, as she glides across the ground, it sends tremors through my body.

Nope! Eyes up, eyes up! Even better, eyes away! I have a wife - a beautiful one at that! I should go home. I should shag her, I have every right to with all the sexual tension Freyja's damned hips are causing - aaannndd. I'm still following her.

I'm so dead if Sigyn finds out.

We're in the land of the Dwarves now, and it's snowing. I like the snow, it reminds me of my old home back in Jotunheim, and the way the frozen rain catches in Freyja's hair makes it look like someone has placed a halo around her head. I wonder if she's ever seen snow before, it's not very common at all in Asgard. I imagine her expression is one of wonder, though she doesn't seem to allow her eyes to wander. Good thing too, there isn't really anywhere for me to hide, the last thing I need right now is a reputation as a stalker - even though that is exactly what I'm doing.

I really should go home.

I've been following her for quite some time now, her face is so cold that her eyes are watering, I can see the shimmer of the droplets from where I crouch, hidden as she enters a narrow passage. I'm tempted to just give up this charade and jump her. If I take her from behind and am careful enough, she won't even know who did it - no, bad Loki! Wife! Pretty! Remember pretty wife who _doesn't_ need persuasion to have sex.

Shaking my head, I continue on, stopping when I hear Freyja's voice. She was bantering with some Dwarves over a necklace, which was daft enough, what was worse was what they wanted for it: a night in bed. With Freyja. EACH! There was four of the ugly little buggars - I should be in her bed, not them! I felt my heart skip a couple of beats as she agreed.

This I am _not_ staying around for. I turn on my heel and go back to Asgard, with every intention of righting my loins through Sigyn.

And now, four days later, I have returned, curious if Freyja actually did go through with that very crude agreement.

She did. And practically ran right past me at that. Sad to say, she reeks of Dwarf, it isn't exactly hard to follow her as she goes back to Asgard and straight to her rooms under the cover of night.

It's now, that I think, I should really tell Odin about this. He likes Freyja even more than I do - this could be fun!

As it turns out, Odin hadn't been watching at all, so I told the story. I had heard Freyja and the fourth Dwarf, so it wasn't as though I was making anything up. I've slept with Dwarves before, it really is as awful as I was telling Odin.

Come to think of it... I wonder if you can catch anything from interspecies intercourse. Ah well, if so it's a bit late now.

"Get me that necklace," he demands. Idiot. He knows I can't, I can't even get into Freyja's rooms - no one can if she doesn't want them there. Odin's tried more than once to my eternal amusement.

"Get me that necklace!" he shouts and threatens me with banishment, the wolves by his feet rising. I run from the hall, my face pale with fear.

And so I go to Freyja's rooms, turning myself into a fly once I reach the door. It takes perhaps an hour before I find a big enough gap to fly through and enter, and I quickly check that all are asleep before finding Freyja's bedchambers.

She's asleep and the opportunity is too good to pass up. I turn into a flea and crawl across the soft flesh of her breast, the necklace and her cheek.

Carefully I set about my task and change into my natural form, ignoring many urges from what Sigyn affectionately (I hope) calls my 'man-brain'. I take Freyja's new necklace and steal away into the night.

After that I give it to Odin and rid myself of the matter. I want no further part in that warmonger's plans. What I do want, is a long, passionate night in someone's bedchamber. And maybe a hot bath.


End file.
